Fangs
by VoidOfEclipse
Summary: Ninjas aren't made without fangs. Donatello is learning this lesson the hard way.
1. Nightmares and Lies

**So. I have no idea how long this is going to be, but it gets intense in this very first chapter, and I only plan for it to be more so as I go along. Please point out any spelling mistakes you may see, I need the help greatly!**

 **This fic is rated M for gore, violence, and language.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

"You can't be serious." Came the irritated grumbling that teetered dangerously along the cliff face of anger as Donatello's shell thumped against the ground for the umpeenth time, "Aren't you tired of getting you carapace waxed already? Fight me!"

' _I'd really rather not_.' He merely thought as he rolled quickly to dodge the incoming foot trying to stomp him into a fine olive-green powder. Recovering quickly, purple framed eyes met with red surrounded ones. His bo had been long since lost in the never ending spar between he and his brother, but Raphael's aggressive offenses still couldn't quite break Donatello's impenetrable defense. Once he was on his feet again Raph wasted no time in barreling forwards. Don quickly side stepped his brother and grabbed one of his wrists while pressing firmly on the muscular turtle's shell, sending the heavier turtle stumbling past his target and furiously whipping around to see Don yet again step back into an Aikido ready position.

"Don…" Raphael's voice revealed that he was now beyond mere irritation, "Hit me already, you wuss!"

"He's right, Don. This won't end if you don't make a move." Leonardo's tempered patience held a tight tinge to it. Donatello wished he could ease his brother's worry but he just couldn't bring himself to. He hadn't ever had the same ache in his fists for violence that his brothers all seemed to posses.

"Yeah dude! This is getting boring!" Mikey called, evolving Don's slight guilt into indignation in an instant. Just because his practice spar hadn't ended in less than a minute didn't mean it was any less important than theirs had been. But patience was never his little brother's strong suit, so he decided to ignore them as bull headed Raphael charged once more. Just as, if not more, stubborn as his hot tempered counterpart, Donatello flipped over the attacker and pressed a foot against his larger carapace to send him tripping forwards yet again, only this time Don actually managed to do some damage. To Raphael's pride, that is.

"DONATELLO!" Raph's rage filled roar reverberated in the air as the terrapin whose semi-calm facade had shattered pivoted on a dime, fists flying at his unwilling opponent. Said turtle had calculated this outcome and spent no time switching from defense to dodging. Ducking, spinning, faking, Don avoided Raphael's wild and powerful blows, some of which either grazed him or came way too close to knocking his brains out for his liking. The red wearing ninja's growls, grunts, and roars of rage went on as he tried in vain to land a hit on his genius brother in vain. Soon both turtles were out of breath and exhausted. Because Donatello was not so winded as his frustrated and overexerted brother he was able to finally counterattack.

"Gotcha." He muttered under his breath once Raph slipped up by curling his arm around for a right hook a smidgen too slow. Don grabbed the outstretched arm and jammed his shoulder against his brother's plastron, using his momentum and weight to carry him up and over his head. Raph's impressive weight caused the floor of the dojo to shudder as he landed hard on his side, wind knocked from his lungs and left arm being tugged behind his back as his lighter brother sat atop him to hold him in a submissive position.

"...Yame." Leo called the match with poorly covered disappointment. Don got off of his brother immediately and offered a three fingered hand to Raph. The larger turtle glared at him from the ground for about half a second before rolling his eyes and huffing in reluctant defeat, taking the offer of leverage and letting himself be pulled up.

"Geez Don, this is why we all hate sparring with you, it takes forever!" Raphael complained as he dusted himself off nonchalantly, making Don smirk.

"It wouldn't take so long if you didn't have the stamina of twelve elephants." He stated matter-of-factly while using the inside of his wrist wrappings to wipe sweat from his brow. Raph only grunted and gave Don's shoulder a playful smack before both of them faced Leo and Mikey.

"Are we done now?" Mikey whined at Leonardo, whose mask of indifference never faltered even as he consented to ending their training with a nod. Mikey whooped joyously and leaped over Leo's head where the eldest had remained in his lotus position. "Time for some Alley Brawler 8!"

"What?" Raph's head whipped around so fast Don had to flinch at the crack emanating from his neck, "That game came out last weekend, how do you have it already?"

Mikey's eyebrows would have been wriggling mischievously if he had any, "Donnie put it on backorder for me. I'm already at the boss on level five."

"What? And you didn't tell me until now?" Raph's audible disbelief followed the both of them as they raced out of the dojo a little too eagerly to play their games. Don also tried to make a hasty exit but was unfortunately halted by Leo's quiet calling of his name. Looking back with dark chocolaty eyes, Donatello could see the concern in Leo's posture and knew he was in for a lecture.

The turtle sighed inwardly, resigned to his fate as he turned again and made to sit in front of his eldest brother. Looking on from afar the untrained eye would only be able to tell the difference between the two by the color of their masks. But as Donatello came in close proximity to his brother he couldn't help but compare his inferior self to the leader of their small clan. Where Leo's build was svelte and muscular, Don's thin frame was caused by the occasional malnourishment and lack of dedication to the arts. The turtle donned in blue sat with an air of pride and dignity, while he struggled to fix his ever drooping posture. Even the elder's skin tone seemed healthier. Don somehow had become the most pale out of all his brother's even though they spent an equal amount of time under the sun.

"Yes, Leo?" While Don knew his brother's hawk-like gaze had probably caught his appraisal, he also knew Leo had a difficult time figuring out how he felt and wouldn't be able to tell where Donatello's train of thought had gone. The leader licked his lips slightly as his silvery gaze searched the other's face for something Don knew Leo wouldn't find.

"There were some close calls in your spar just now." Leo began carefully, trying not to let his smart brother catch on to where he was heading with his incoming speech. Too bad for him, Donatello was just as intuitive as he was brainy.

"I had calculated that he might land a few hits." ' _I had everything under control._ ' The second meaning was meant to be clear, and the slight narrowing in Leo's eyes proved that the underlying message had come across. Even still, the older brother seemed determined to make a point and went on regardless.

"Indeed. But Raphael seems to be adapting to your defenses faster every session. You lost your bo in the first five minutes even after you had the upper hand by disarming him as well. Not to mention you lost to him yesterday." ' _You're slipping up._ '

"A small mistake on my part. I should have incorporated that low kick into the possible outcomes following my landing." ' _It was a one time thing. It won't happen again._ '

"I see." Leo hummed thoughtfully in the way he does when planning strategies for battle plans. It was the same hum he used when he was about to make a deciding move whenever they played chess, and it had Don's heart thumping in his chest. Donatello knew he had lost control of his composure, even if it were only for a split second. He saw the twinkle of victory in Leo's ever watching eyes and just knew he'd seen it, "I'll be honest Don. Your performance recently concerns me."

"I may have been slacking a little in training the past couple of weeks. But only because I was distracted with the T-Phones. Now that they're fixed I'll be up and running well again like-" Leo held up a hand and quickly stopped Don from continuing further. Donatello gulped and had no doubt now that his nervousness was clearly visible.

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it." Don averted his eyes immediately, looking at his hands folded in his lap. He could see Leo shift uncomfortably from his peripherals. Out of the three of them, Leo had the least problems with Donatello since their father had died. Don knew his older brother still wasn't comfortable taking Master Splinter's place as clan head as well as he knew that he was unused to scolding his most obedient brother.

"I'm worried, Don. Is this how you're going to treat the enemy?" Leo's voice was quiet and sincere. It was the tone of a concerned family member trying to help his loved one. He'd really come a long way from the days when he would confuse the timing of his role as the leader with the times he should have acted more as an older brother. Leo was now a real source of comfort for them and all of their role model. He'd grown. Just like Raphael had overcome his temper, for the most part, and learned to redirect it into compassion and strength to support his family. And like Mikey had mastered the art of focus and was able to fight on completely even grounds with the eldest brother as well as show a deep understanding of even the most complicated matters that still surprised all of them.

Where his family had progressed, Donatello only felt that he had regressed. Leo's obvious concern was proof enough of that.

"Your defense is impeccable, as always. But Donnie," Leo had taken Donatello's silence as an invitation to continue, even pulling out the old nickname Don had abandoned years ago, "We're ninja."

"I… I know, Leo." Don said with a sigh, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his ever-tired sockets. He could feel his elder brother's worry intensify and regretted letting his composure slip further. To make up for it he steeled himself internally and managed to look up again to meet the gray gaze, "I know as well as any of us that things can't always be settled without injury. But here, in our own home? I can't bring myself to see the benefit of attacking one another as if we were enemies."

And there it was, the real issue laying out in the open as Leo no doubt wanted in order for him to prod at the prone and tender subject, "We have to be prepared. You know this. Without strengthening your offense alongside your defense, you leave yourself vulnerable. You're slowing down, and Raph's only getting faster because unlike you, he's willing to have a balanced regime. When we're all balanced we have a better chance of not only protecting ourselves, but each other as well. Plus we all know how to control ourselves in the dojo. We've gone over this before, Don. I know you understand, and I know you didn't argue with this logic in the past," Leonardo leaned forwards and placed a hand on his brother's knee, looking him straight in the eye, "What's really going on, Donnie?"

Don looked down again, this time at Leo's hand. Warm, strong, calloused, and most importantly, alive. He looked back into those eyes filled with wisdom and care. Eyes that could see. Whatever he had been thinking must have showed on his face, because after a mere few seconds it was as if Leo had read his mind like a children's book.

"Have you been having nightmares again?" Don flinched at the unfiltered words as he slowly nodded, and Leo's grip on his knee grew tight to the point of causing a bit of pain, "I thought you were going to tell us if they started again."

"I-I was going to! But…" But his hellish dreams had evolved over time into horrors beyond anything he could or would want to put into words. After he'd returned from his little vacation in the alternate universe the Ultimate Drako was so kind to send him on, Don had told his brother's of his venture. He'd initially left out the part where they all had died because of his miscalculations. Then the nightmares had started. At first they had been simple re-runs of the events going through his head, watching his brother's die one by one before his eyes dozens of times. He'd wake up in a cold sweat on the floor every time, but he had managed to hide it when they were at that level since he was able to easily blame his lack of sleep on a late night project.

It was a few weeks later when things had started to change. His brothers would die in a different manner at first, more violently and dishonorably than they originally had. Guts spilled upon the concrete floors of Shredder's temple, heads rolling around before being crushed by a Karai Legion, or the wicked Utrom's gauntlets tearing one of his poor brother's in half. He'd wake up screaming after those ones, and after being caught and interrogated by his brothers, he'd moved into his lab to sleep. Of course he hadn't told them what his dreams were about, lying that he couldn't remember what it had been about and laughing them away with gentle taunts and thanks for their concern. He still regretted his immature decision to do so.

Two weeks after the dreams started warping into more and more violent and gory scenes Donatello finally broke. The visions that finally led to his confession of what had really happened in that timeline. He shivered where he sat as he unintentionally recalled the nightmare that had almost killed him.

 _"Mikey? Raph?" Don called out as he looked around from where he stood. He was in the middle of the room they were supposed to be fighting their last fight for freedom in, but no one was around. Not his brother's, no April, no Karai, and no Shredder. There was only silence and his drumming heart. Panicking, Donatello turned in circles to see if he had missed anything, "Leo?"_

 _"Dona...tello." The turtle masked in purple whirled around at the sound of his name being called out in a hoarse voice._

 _"Mikey! Mikey, where are you?" Don called out frantically. Suddenly the lights went out. Total darkness consumed him and the ground beneath his feet became warm and slick. The tell-tale scent of blood hit him with such intensity that he stumbled backwards, slipping and falling against something solid. In his fright Donatello cried out and lashed at whatever it was he'd run into. The lights burst on without so much as a click, leaving Donatello confused and dazed as he tried to tug at his arm that had somehow gotten caught in whatever he'd struck. His eyes quickly adjusted so that he could witness the sick horror awaiting him._

 _Don let loose a strangled scream to see his hand, equipped with Shredder's signature gauntlet, pierced into the stomach of his baby brother. An unholy amount of blood was gushing from Mikey's abdomen. His mouth was slack and baby blue eyes already lifeless. Donatello could only scream further when his arm seemed to move of its own accord to slice slowly upward. Michelangelo's plastron seemed to be made of butter when faced with the sharp blades that slowly sliced through him until the tips reached the tender meat of his neck and viciously sliced open his esophagus. Sinew, intestines, vital organs, and other viscera began leaking out from the hole he'd just created in his dearly beloved brother's body._

 _Donatello's own body moved as if it were a mere marionette strung up by some wicked puppeteer, but his mind and his voice remained his. He screamed and cried his brother's name even as he continued to mutilate as desecrate the body with deep cuts and stabs that the younger turtle could no longer feel._

"Donatello!" Leo's firm grip on his shoulders and firmly grounded voice brought an increasingly pale Donatello back to his right frame of mind. The purple masked turtle felt sick to his stomach and he noticed how violently he was trembling. His eyes could no longer hold tears for the memory of the nightmares, but they were distant and haunted anyways as he looked up to his brother.

"I won't do it again, Leo, I promise." His voice sounded unnervingly hollow even to his own ears, but Don couldn't let himself express the deep anguish he was feeling for fear of losing control. Leonardo's grip never faltered.

"You haven't done anything Donnie. How many times do we have to tell you this before you believe it?" Leo's grip traveled down the length of the geniuses' arm until a hand was softly cradling each of his wrists. The leader began rubbing gentle circles into the inside of Don's bandaged wrists with his thumbs, "Or are you talking about these?"

"Both." Don replied instantaneously in monotone as he focused on the soothing massage he was getting upon the old scars he'd given himself years ago. That was during his second bout of nightmares after he'd nearly lost Splinter in the data stream. Needless to say his family hadn't been happy that he'd resorted to inflicting harm upon his body instead of telling them how anguished he'd been. Even saying they were 'not happy' was a definite understatement.

Both Leonardo and Raphael had taken similar routes at one point or another, pushing themselves or placing themselves in harm's way on purpose to cope with their deep seated fears and anxieties. Both of them had been outraged to learn Donatello had been cutting in secret when they had opened up to him each on their own about their own forms of self-harm. Don had even been the one to suggest solutions and had been more than willing to be a listening ear whenever one or the other was triggered. By not asking for help in return, he'd both betrayed their trust and inadvertently deemed them incapable of assisting him. Needless to say, since that time neither of them have been as open with their deepest despairs with Don as they had been before.

Mikey had been understanding. None of them had ever burdened the self proclaimed youngest of the group with their problems, but that had been impossible for Don when said brother had been the one to find him bleeding out over the tub. Stubborn Michelangelo had been, and still was, determined never to let Don get so caught up in his own head like that again. After he'd woken up on the cot in his lab that doubled as a bed for the infirmed he had been thoroughly interrogated.

Before, the first time they really learned about the his night terrors, he had told them about their deaths in the alternate reality he'd been sent to. They'd all thought his nightmares had just been based off of that and hadn't imagined they could be any worse than what he actually had to experience in the waking realm. After he'd been caught with bloodied wrists, he had been forced to tell them about the true nature of his dreams. That night he had broken down in front of the brothers he had been forced to murder over and over again in his restless slumber. He'd begged and pleaded for forgiveness that they had insisted wasn't necessary until he'd worked himself into such a tizzy that they had to sedate him before he passed out all over again.

It wasn't a time the family talked about regularly.

"How long?" Leo's voice was dangerously low. Don looked up and huffed through his nose at his brother's worry. It wasn't unwarranted, but the fit that had drove him to suicidal tendencies had been over five years ago now.

"The day Splinter died." He said simply, quietly. Leonardo tensed and slowly dropped Donatello's wrists back into their owner's lap.

"That was six months ago, Don." The statement was made with an obvious tone of disbelief and disappointment that made Donatello want to clam up and disappear. Instead the brainy turtle hurried to explain himself.

"I know, Leo. But everyone was grieving. I couldn't just push my problems onto you guys at a time like that." He defended, the argument causing Leo cross his arms in his version of anger.

" _Everyone_ was grieving, and that includes _you_!"

"It's not as bad now, though! I knew I could ride it out and I did. Leo. I promised you I wouldn't do this-" Don motioned to his wrists with a tilt of his head, "-again, and I won't."

"I'm not worried about you hurting yourself again Don! I'm worried about you bottling everything up until something even worse happens!" Leo burst out in a rare moment of emotion. Donatello could only blink stupidly at his brother as he struck a fist against the tatami mat and the crinkle in his brow deepened, "You're going to get yourself killed. You don't think I haven't noticed how much you've started holding back against the Purple Dragons and rouge Foot Ninjas while we're out on patrol? You end up more winded and bruised than the rest of us after every fight- and it's not because you're not up to par. It's because you're expending so much energy to avoid hurting _the enemy_ that you can't defend _yourself_!"

"I'm handling the situation, Leo." Don couldn't get his voice raised above a quivering whisper, shaken at seeing how upset his brother was. He had no idea Leo had been so worried about this.

"No, Donnie, you're not." Leo's glare was piercing and deadly serious. The blue clad turtle leaned forwards and quickly grabbed Donatello's wrists back up, squeezing them with the intention of making the younger brother think about his old injuries that would heal on the outside but never really on the inside, "Tell me this isn't what was going through your head the last time. Tell me why this time is any different than the last."

"It is different!"

" _How_!?"

"Because this time _my brothers_ aren't the ones I'm murdering!" This time it was Donatello's turn to snap as the turtle shouted his reply and yanked his hands away from Leonardo's grasp. The violet masked terrapin stood and whipped around as he trembled with emotion. His fisted were clenched into tight balls when he noticed two extra sets of eyes at the entrance of the dojo. Of course his younger brothers wouldn't be able to keep their curiosity reigned in once they had heard Leo's raised voice.

Don couldn't help but feel devastated. He'd been exposed, caught lying to them once again to protect himself. His mind began to whisper to him.

' _They know. They'll never accept you. You're a vile monstrosity. A demon. A murderer.'_

"Donnie, wait!" One of them called out as he dashed by his brother's and out of the dojo. He wasn't sure who it had been, but he had managed to beat them to his lab and lock himself in before they could drag him away to reveal even more of the secrets he'd kept close. Pounding came from the other side of the door he slid down alongside muffled protests and pleas to let his brothers in.

Honestly Don felt as if he might have overreacted, but the shaking in his hands wouldn't stop, and soon after his brothers had given up attempting to bully him out of hiding did he bury his face in the very hands he'd used to take the lives of thousands.


	2. It's Amnesia

**This chapter is rated M for blood, gore, and language.**

 **Also, it escalates pretty quickly**

* * *

Michelangelo cringed at the silence that overtook the kitchen once he removed the whistling tea kettle from its place on the stove burner. His crystal blue orbs darted from Raphael's position leaning against the entrance to the room with his arms crossed over his chest, to where Leonardo sat at the dining table with his elbows on the table and his entwined hands pressed firmly against his mouth in deep thought. The lid to the clay tea pot clinked when Mikey opened it to pour in the hot water. The slight noise was enough to crack Raph's patience.

"So what do we do now?" He grumbled at their leader. The youngest glanced over at Leo as he placed a couple of teaspoons of loose leaf green tea into the pot and placed the lid back on. Leo sighed deeply and let his face fall forwards so that his forehead was resting against his fists.

"What would you suggest?" He asked genuinely, shocking the other turtles. Raph stood up straighter and Mikey stopped mid-reach into the cupboards where the teacups were.

"Me? Why you askin me?" Raph sounded incredulous, stalking over to the table and leaning on it with both hands, "You're the one who set him off."

"Which is exactly why I'm asking you." Leo replied instantly, his tone even but his eyes flashing with annoyance as he looked up again, "I obviously am not the one qualified to help him. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

Mikey quietly sat the cups down on the table and intently observed his brother's uncommonly slack posture and the haunted look in his gray eyes. He was feeling guilty about this, that much was obvious. Before Raph could insert another senseless comment Mikey made sure to speak up, "This isn't your fault you know. None of us noticed how bad he had gotten, and Don didn't exactly hold up on his end of our bargain either."

"Mikey…" Leo trailed off as the two stared at one another for a good few moments. It was the blue clad turtle who broke the gaze, another very un-Leo like action, "I… understand that there are certain elements of this that were out of my control. But was I really so caught up in Master Splinter's death that I couldn't see how much Don was suffering?"

"To quote a certain wise turtle, 'that included _you_ ', Leo. We all know who took Splinter's death the hardest and it wasn't Don." Mikey huffed as he turned back to the tea and poured four cups. Brewing a batch of the caffeinated hot beverage when they were upset had been a habit of Splinter's that Mikey picked up in remembrance of him. No one except Leo really enjoyed the tea that much, but they would all drink it anyways for the effect it had on them.

"Apparently he took it harder than we thought, though." Raph was sure to point out, accepting a cup from Mikey and setting it on the table as his little brother slid one over to Leo as well, who lowered a hand to catch it before it could topple over the edge, "He was supposed to tell us if he started having those stupid dreams again."

"In hindsight it was kind of obvious," Mikey noted as he sipped at his own lightly flavored water. Both of his brothers looked at him questioningly so he proceeded without hesitation, "Not that I'm saying anyone in particular is at fault for not noticing. Don's never liked fighting in the first place. I can't name a time when he's killed someone in front of me, and he's always been the one to hold back the most, so it wasn't a very noticeable difference from how he usually fights except for the few extra scrapes and bruises he gets."

"Get on with it, Mike." Raph grumbled as he finally pulled out a chair and slumped into it. Mikey rolled his eyes.

"Don't you guys remember what he was like right after he told the truth about his dreams?" Mikey's mind supplied him an unsightly image of his olive skinned brother passed out over a red dyed bathtub, paling by the second and looking more dead than alive. He'd been so disturbed by that image that he had set his heart on observing Don and noting all the out of character behavior so that he could learn to identify when his brother was having an episode of night terrors. He was just as much to blame as any of his brother's for not seeing it sooner, but they had all been a bit out of it since Splinter's passing. Mikey gulped his emotion down with a swig of tea as he tried to get his mind back on track to continue, "He refused to fight us in the ring at all, not even like what he's been doing for the last couple of days."

"Yeah, I remember." Raph let out a long breath and took some tea of his own at last, "Stubborn fucker would just lock himself up in the lab when it came round time to practice."

"Language."

"Right, and he only came on patrol because he was worried something would happen to us without him." Mikey went on, both warm color banded turtles ignoring Leo's little insert, "He even threw up once after knocking out a PD punk that tried to sneak a hit in on me. He was that wigged out by fighting."

"What? When was that?" Leo's eyes widened in surprise making Mikey flinch. He hadn't meant to let his brothers in on that little bit, but there was much more between he and Don that the younger never planned on letting their friends or family know. Mikey shrugged off his brother's curiously worried looks and went on.

"A little after he started going back on patrol with us. But what I'm trying to say is that the signs have been there but it's not obvious like it was the last time. He's just getting better at hiding it, and none of us have been really paying attention to anything at home lately. It's kind of more like we've been ignoring the problems. Not just Don's issues either," He gave a pointed look to both of his brothers, who suddenly seemed rather sheepish. Mikey didn't like to admit it, but he knew that he was the least affected by their father's death.

Leo was taking his new role hard even though Splinter had been preparing the leader for his eventual demise for years. The blue wearing terrapin was adjusting to being three things at once- their leader, brother, and sensei. Mikey was not by any means jealous of all the responsibility heaped onto Leonardo's already weighed down shoulders. The other three had tried to make it easier on Leo by being obedient and respecting the authority given to him. Even Raph had gotten over his rivalry when it came to matters in learning new moves, katas, and dealing with everyone's overall performance. Still, it seemed like Leo missed the guidance and had almost fallen into a robotic routine that didn't allow himself any personal time to work on himself and do what he was interested in.

Raph's temper had mellowed out even further after Splinter died, which was odd in its own right since Raphael's usual way of coping included violence and alcohol. The outgoing and fiery tempered young man was more reserved now than ever before, and disappeared for a few hours every day to some unknown location. No one worried about him though since he always came home completely unharmed, if not a little calmer than he was before he went out. Mikey had his suspicions that Leo actually knew where Raph went every day between five to eight, but just as Mikey and Don were entitled to their secrets, Leo and Raph were entitled to theirs. As long as it didn't get any of them into danger Mikey was cool with not knowing, but he hated seeing the fire in Raphael cooling off.

"But whatever, let's just focus on the one who's life is probably the most at risk right now," Mikey moved on, drinking the second cup he'd made initially for Donatello since it had grown cold. He hadn't meant to discuss this problem with his brothers for such a long time. Both of the other occupants in the room flinched at his words and nodded in no doubt relieved agreement to turn the focus back onto Donatello, "I'm gonna go see if he wants to go for a walk to the junkyard. That usually cheers him up. Hopefully he will and when we come back he'll be more open to talk about it."

Raph quirked a brow, "You sure seem confident about that."

"Let's just say I've had a bit of practice with keeping Donnie happy." Mikey said with a smirk and a wink that seemed to confuse the other brothers.

"What, you haven't been doing perverted things in there have you?" Raph's eyes were wide as he jerked a thumb towards the lab. Leo actually spit out his tea at the remark and Mikey couldn't have pulled a more horrified face. Raphael's canines flashed as he grinned and laughed at the reaction he had gotten.

"You're nasty, bro." Mikey shook his head in shame as Leo glared daggers at their crass brother and wiped his chin with a nearby table cloth. The youngest turned with the empty cup to hide his own little smile. Seeing the mood lightening gave Mikey a bit more courage to face his brother who'd locked himself away. The orange masked turtle hummed a content note as he grabbed the pot to pour Don another cup so he could bring it to his nerdy, gentle bro. Leo stopped him from walking out immediately by gripping onto his elbow as he passed.

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to try first?" Mikey blinked at Leo for a moment as he tried to understand why his brother would ask such a thing. This, he understood as much, was a big brother worrying about putting too much pressure on his baby brother. Mikey appreciated the sentiment, and usually he enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to worry about so much like his older brothers did, but this was something different. There was no way Leo and Raph could possibly comprehend the full extent of what Don was going through. The opportunity to know what he'd really been dealing with had been open five years ago, and they'd closed that door just like Don had done with them. Mikey was an expert at faking bright smiles and he used that skill when he answered his eldest brother.

"I'll be fine, Leo. I've got this." He winked again as he slowly pulled away from Leo's grip and grim face to walk out of the kitchen armed with his anxiety remedy. He could feel his brother's eyes on him as he walked all the way past the center pool and communications center Don had rigged up for them and to the double doors of the lab.

Teacup in one hand, Mikey rose a fist to knock, "Oh Donatello! I brought you tea, big brother of mine!" He called in a lyrical tone and stood with the doors inches from his nose. A minute passed. Two. Three. The left door opened a smidgen just as Mikey had begun to worry about the cooling liquid in his palm.

"I'm fine, Mikey." The younger turtle couldn't even see his brother, only hear his tired voice from beyond the small crack the purple wearing genius had allowed. Even so Michelangelo put on his signature smile.

"Because locking yourself in your lab for two hours just screams 'I'm fine'." Mikey was half joking, a specialty of his, but changed his tone and let his grin fade into something softer, more sincere, "Come on bro, it's me. And I'm worried about you."

"Mikey…." The name came out of his brother in a long breath that reeked of exasperation. But if there was one thing his older brothers were horrible at, it was refusing their baby brother's earnest requests. This was especially true when it came to Donatello since he'd always had an odd soft spot for Michelangelo. A fact Mikey was most aware of and took full advantage of on several occasions. That was why he knew that Don's sighing was not purely out of irritation, but of defeat as well. It was no surprise to the tea bearing turtle when the doors conceded to his visit and opened enough for him to quickly pop inside, "Make yourself at home."

"Don't mind if I do!" Mikey prodded back at his brother mischievously as he plopped his rear end right onto Don's fancy stuffed leather computer chair. He only actually saw his brainy brother when he swiveled around in time to see Donatello closing the doors and turning towards him. Mikey frowned, "You look terrible."

And he truly did. The olive skinned sentient reptile was paler than usual, exceptionally noticeable in his facial features. His purple mask was hanging uselessly around his neck which meant that the darkness under his eyes was blatant and accented the noticeable red veins creeping along the whites. Don seemed smaller than he normally appeared due to his hanging head and slumped shoulders. Overall he just seemed tired. Very, very tired.

"Thanks Mike. I know I can always count on you to point out the obvious." Don grunted as he trudged over and accepted the tea from Mikey. It only took one swig before it was gone, a habit of Donatello's that Mikey had deep ire with. Food and drink deserved to be enjoyed slowly! It was something Mikey realized defined his brother's character though and hadn't taken up arms over the matter as of late. Don had always been one to finish things in a business-like and no nonsense manner, whether that be when working on a kata, project, meal, or even his love life. If he could manage to keep one, that is.

Mikey shook his slowly wandering thoughts back into place as Don sat on a clear space atop his desk and set the cup aside. His brown eyes were downcast as he pretended to be busy with looking over a note to his left. Mikey, not about to let things get awkward, decided to present his proposition.

"Wanna go to the junkyard?" He smiled when his brother's chin tilted upwards in interest. Blue met brown as Don finally made eye contact, and Mikey could see the knowing glint in those dark depths.

"You don't have to worry about me. I told you, I'm fine." Mikey felt his brows draw together in obvious disbelief. Don looked away again before going on, "I should have told you about the dreams. I'm sorry Mikey. I just feel that this time… this time it's different."

Mikey remembered what Don had yelled before storming out of the dojo.

" _Because this time_ my brothers _aren't the ones I'm murdering_!"

The nunchaku expert planned on finding out what that meant, but no one could force anything out of Donatello and expect good results. Leo.

"I won't lie. I'm a little hurt that you didn't tell me anyways," Mikey said with an uncomfortable grimace that was supposed to be a smile. He accidentally let Don catch sight of the expression and regretted his words the moment deep guilt etched itself on his brother's features. But it was too late to take it back now, so Mikey kept on, "But I trust you Don. If you say you can handle it then I believe you! We just… we just hate seeing you get hurt."

"I know Mikey." Donatello muttered as he rubbed at his eyes, letting his arms fall a moment later with a defeated sigh, "Like I told Leo, I was working on the ShellCells all week and had gotten… a little… rusty…"

Mikey knew his brother hated lying, especially to him. So it was super easy to tell when his older brother wasn't being completely honest with him. But since he'd said he would trust him, Mikey let the trailing comment slide and just smiled instead, "Come on, Don! Don't get all down on me like that. Look, we can just make a quick run to the junkyard and you can pick up me up some parts for that PSP you promised to fix like, twenty years ago."

"It was eight months ago and," Don mentioned with a half smile and wide eyes, "I completely forgot about that."

"I noticed." Mikey did an inner fist-bump at getting the small smile out of his tired looking brother as he commented nonchalantly. Don let out a long suffering huff and shook his head.

"Alright, I'll go," he acquiesced as if he himself didn't want to go, which Mikey knew he most likely actually really did, "Just for a few analog parts and a surface microphone, if you don't want to use earphones."

"I have no idea what half of that means, but yes. I want that." Mikey pointed dramatically at his brainy brother, who actually chuckled lightly as he stood. Mikey felt like he was winning one Happy Point after the other.

"What I mean is that the joystick isn't working and you're gonna need-"

 ** _"Look out!"_**

 ** _"Stop! Mikey, no!"_**

 ** _"What did you do to him?"_**

 ** _"You're going to regret doing that."_**

Michelangelo groaned in pain. White hot, unbearable pain, radiating from his left temple and shoulder. His ears were ringing and his entire body felt as if it were made of led. He lay there in pain for a few short moments before the confusion set in. He didn't know where he was, why he hurt so badly all over, or what had happened. The last thing he remembered was being in Don's lab. After that, it was all a blur of memories that made his head ache terribly when he tried to recall them. What felt like an eternity later did his senses come back to him.

Heavy panting, a sense of being in a puddle of warm liquid face down on concrete, and the fact that even though his eyes were open, he couldn't see. Mikey panicked for a quick second before he realized something was only covering his eyes. His mask. It had somehow gotten turned around so that the eye holes were askew.

Hissing, Mikey used much of his remaining strength to lift his left hand up and twist the fabric around. He was very confused to notice that he wasn't wearing his own mask, but Donatello's deep purple one. Of course, that confusion was quickly overlooked when the horrible realization that the tail ends of the mask were laying in the pool of crimson blood he too was in.

"Wha…?" He started, beginning to feel afraid that he had been stabbed.

"M-Mikey!"

Mikey's adrenaline spiked as he heard the familiar voice of his brother whose mask he wore, "Don...nie!" He tried to lift his head to see where his brother was, now worried that the blood wasn't his at all.

"D-don't look!" Donatello cried too late. Mikey caught sight of the river of blood's source. The mutated turtle form of Hun lay lifeless of the ground, lifeless eyes staring upwards as hardly flowing streams of liquid life seeped from his torn open jugular and missing left arm. Startled, Mikey tried to sit upright, but a dizzy spell mixed with the slippery ground sent him sprawling in the gore again.

"Don, what… what happened?" His words sounded slow and slurred to his own ears, which seemed to send Don into doctor mode.

"Tr-try not t-to move t-too much Mikey. I think you-you have a concussion," Was his brother… crying? More fearful that before, the now purple masked and injured turtle forced his eyes to find his brother. His body went rigid at the appearance of Donatello.

Blood. So much blood. Everywhere.

Red painted nearly every inch of his soft-spoken brother. There was no yellow to be seen on his plastron at all, and his arms were covered up to the shoulders, which were also dripping. It was literally dripping off of him. His eyes were haunted, wide, and leaking tears, surrounded by the orange mask Mikey usually wore. What was the worst, though, was the giant green forearm Don was holding. Hun's arm.

Mikey thought he was going to be sick, though he couldn't tell if it was from seeing a severed arm in his gentle brother's hands, or from the intense case of vertigo he was experiencing.

"Mikey? Donnie!"

Don dropped the arm as he jumped, letting the appendage fall into a blood puddle with a sickening _slap, thud_ , as the loose wrist bounced against the pavement.

"I-I have to go!" And Don was suddenly out of his sight, replaced by the concerned and disturbed face of Leonardo that suddenly came out of nowhere. He was asking him questions, yelling at Raphael, but Mikey couldn't hear or make sense of any of it. He could only think of one thing to say, and it took everything he had to say it without vomiting.

"Donnie needs help, Leo."


End file.
